


XII

by quackleeee



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: (because this is what we came for! this is the content we deserve!), And also..., Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff, Happy Ending, Teenagers, WE ARE GETTING CUTE UP IN HERE, also i WILL update this every month. you have my word.., and lastly, and this is gonna be Boomer-centric cause ya know... there's a lot of topics we can touch here like:, i have done it. i have written a story IN ADVANCE, i promise this will be happy :) tee hee, i want yall to GUSH and SWOON with me over these blondes okay, praise me mortals, random fact: boomer is THEE cutest rowdyruff boy. thank you and hope you enjoy :), so like..., so this is mainly a Blues fic, the others are def here ofc; i love sibling dynamics, the rrb are dorks but they're loveable dorks. next question., they're in high school btw, we adore family tropes here! no ifs ands or buts!, yeah that's a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackleeee/pseuds/quackleeee
Summary: One word, four seasons, and twelve months worth of reasons why Boomer could pay nobody the type of attention he did to that stupid, blue Powerpuff. Blues, Boomer-centric, and shall be updated once a month for this year.
Relationships: Boomer/Bubbles Utonium
Comments: 26
Kudos: 31





	1. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! It's finally time to showcase what I've been working on for the past few months. How exciting!
> 
> I've been wanting to write a Boomer-centric story for a while. I used to be a huge Blues fan in my youth, and Boomer is still my favorite Rowdyruff. Hopefully, you will all enjoy what I've come up with.
> 
> Many thanks to my friends on Discord and Tumblr who have heard me ramble about this story idea for hours on end. This whole thing would not have formed without you guys :)
> 
> This story is a monthly fic of sorts, meaning that for every month of this year, I'll be releasing a chapter. I'll update on both on here and on FF.net (I am quackle on there), so please feel free to read it on either or both platforms!
> 
> Disclaimer: Only the story idea belongs to me. I do not claim the characters, settings, etc. mentioned in this fanfiction.

_Snow forts and snowballs and fighting, oh my._

* * *

Boomer loved the simplicity that winter brought.

Piles of snow entering his boots with each step of an unplowed sidewalk, people of all ages building snowmen or creating snow angels, the cold chill in his bones even the Chemical X couldn't fully stop. All aspects of winter might have been annoying to most, but to Boomer, it was a dream come true. Even the dumb Christmas songs that refused to stop even after Christmas had passed brought a peculiar joy to his soul.

After many weeks filled with fire-themed villains overtaking the city—and one day where Brick threw a little tantrum, which resulted in an accidental forest fire that took hours to put out—Townsville was finally painted in white. Most were out and about enjoying the weather, and the Rowdyruff Boys were no different. School was off until the next week, and the first snow since last year gave them something fun to do during their break.

Currently, Boomer was on a mission: to collect more snowflakes in his mouth than Butch. He was losing by six snowflakes, maybe seven if you counted that extra small one that happened to flutter on Butch's tongue. That didn't stop him from at least continuing to try, though.

"You know that's just polluted air, right?" he heard Brick ask. His voice sounded annoyed, and, from the look he gave the two from over his shoulder, he sure seemed annoyed. "Quit acting like kids."

With a scoff, Butch stopped, probably less because he was commanded to and more because that meant he won their little contest by default. The absolute asshole. "Oh, c'mon Brick. Polluted air never tasted so good. Right, Boom?"

Deciding to take his loss calmly, Boomer nodded his head. "The saltiness _does_ give me a rush," he said. That one got a good snort out of Butch.

Meanwhile, Brick's nose wiggled in disgust. "Ugh. _Gross._ " Brick groaned, turning his head forward and making sure to stay at least ten steps ahead of his younger brothers. With each step, snow would melt, creating a clear path for them.

Boomer gave a mock of a pout. "Wow. He's no fun."

Shaking his head, Butch crossed his arms. "Definitely no fun. Probably scared he'd lose if he joined us."

"You both know I can hear you, right?" Brick didn't bother to turn around.

"Did ya hear something?" Butch asked, purposely making his voice louder.

Boomer one-upped him, practically shouting and internally laughing at how unnecessary it was to do that. "A little bit! Sounded like a _baby_!"

Brick's middle finger seemed to be the only response he was going to give.

However, that wasn't the response Butch wanted apparently. His green eyes narrowed, scanning his surroundings, then he settled into a terrifying smirk that could only mean trouble. _"Watch this,_ " he mouthed to Boomer, scooping up a bit of the snow from the ground.

" _He's gonna be so pissed_ ," Boomer mouthed back, struggling to keep his laughter at a low volume.

Butch just shrugged, charging his arm back. Quickly, he threw the snowball, somehow holding in his laughter. Time seemed to slow down, at least to Boomer. He could see clearly how the snowball flew through the air, aimed directly at the back of Brick's head, could see the way Brick leaned over to the right without even having to take a glance back, could see how the snowball continued to soar until—

"What the—watch where you're throwing stuff, idiot!" a familiar voice shouted.

The huge grin Butch had on his face settled down into a deep frown, seeing where—or, in this case, _who_ —his snowball landed on. "Oh, great," he said. "It's _them_."

Boomer sighed to himself, already knowing what was going to happen before it even began.

Ever since Boomer and his brothers lowered down on the crime, an act of teenage rebellion against their fathers who were so damn _annoying_ with all the plots and schemes every single day, the two groups didn't need to see each other anymore. But the fact that they lived in the same city and went to the same school meant that the unfortunate was always inevitable. At the end of the day, the Rowdyruff Boys were going to run into the Powerpuff Girls more than once, even if they tried to avoid one another like the plague.

When Boomer stepped next to Brick, taking his normal spot on the right, he could see the flash of anger in his oldest brother's eyes. "Move." Brick's tone was firm.

Blossom Utonium, of course, did not move, nor did her sisters. She stood her ground directly across from them, arms behind her back, posture straight, and face completely devoid of care. "Nice to see you too, Brick," she said instead, her eyes settling on her counterpart's feet. "Plowing like the modern-day shovel you are. You even managed to do the whole sidewalk as far as I can see. Color me surprised. How civil of you."

"And how civil of you to not _move out of our way_."

"Try asking politely and we'll see."

"Aren't you supposed to be everything nice?"

"I am being nice," Blossom said, somehow keeping her composure through all of Brick's bullshit. "Nice enough to give you a second chance and ask again."

With a huff, Buttercup swiped the rest of the snowball off the back of her knitted black hat. "Screw this and screw them. Can we go now? They're ruining a good snow day."

"As if _you_ girls know how to spend a good snow day." Butch smacked his teeth. "You could barely manage to take a snowball to the head."

Bubbles, the sweetheart that she was unfortunately made to be, didn't take any offense to that whatsoever. "Oh, we're really good at snow days, Butch! Pros even!" She clasped her gloved hands together. "We were just about to have a big snowball fight against one another in the field across the street, and— _mmph!_ "

Quickly, Buttercup covered Bubbles' mouth. "Don't tell them!" she whispered, which was pointless considering they all had heightened hearing capabilities. "They wouldn't know how to play a snowball match if it was thrown in their faces."

The implication was stupid. Of course, the boys knew how to throw snowballs at someone else and call it a day. They had done it plenty of times, it was always a ton of fun. There hadn't been a single winter for their entire lives where they skipped out on a snowball fight or two. Anybody who was mature enough would have just rolled their eyes and brushed off the statement.

But then, Brick grew his infamous look.

There wasn't a look Boomer recognized more than Brick's. The eldest was always so readable, so unafraid to show exactly what he's feeling at every given moment. When his eyes squinted with that slight frown on his face, that meant he was looking for one thing and one thing only: a fight. No matter how small or insignificant that point would be in the end, he was always ready to prove it like it was the only thing he was meant to do.

Boomer could see the spark of blood-red energy float around Brick's body. Instinctively, he felt his own electric blue energy begin to power up, and from the far left, Butch's forest green energy thundered beneath their feet. That's how it always was. When the leader wanted a fight, his brothers wanted one, too, and there was absolutely nothing that would stop them.

"A snowball fight, huh?" Brick mused. The question came out quiet, but loud enough to be heard.

Ignoring her sisters' bickering in the background, Blossom spoke. "Are you trying to make a bet with us?" She sounded amused, humored almost, her pink eyes still on Brick's feet. "Those haven't ended well for you recently."

"Depends. Are you willing to take on another bet, Pinky?"

"Of course. You know I can never deny knocking you down a few pegs. For modesty, of course."

"How nice of you. Living up to your purpose for once today, huh?"

Blossom let out a singular laugh. "Girls," she announced, a spark a pink circling her arm, "the boys are going to play with us this time. Let's be _nice_."

The two girls in question silenced themselves as soon as their leader spoke. Naturally, Boomer's eyes landed on Bubbles, and her eyes landed on him. He always did that, but he honestly had no choice, and he knew she didn't have one either. It was like a magnetic pull that never turned off.

From a distance, he could feel her powers circle around her almost shyly as she massaged her hands together. She always felt like that, even when they had their physical fights. There was a part of her that held back on him as if he wasn't worthy enough as a rival to feel the full extent of her strength.

It made him hate her even more than he already did.

"Let's set some rules," Blossom offered, cutting through the silence. "Everyone gets to pick one."

Brick nodded. "Fine. Ladies first."

Blossom was the first to comment. "Five-minute preparation." A nice, simple suggestion, fitting for her character.

"One hit anywhere from the waist up means you're out," Bubbles said next. "That seems fair."

Buttercup nodded in agreement. "Traps allowed."

"If traps are allowed, then so are snow forts!" Butch exclaimed, grinning.

All eyes landed on Boomer, and he talked before he could even fully process his words. "Powers allowed."

"Nice one, Boom." Brick placed a firm, supportive hand on Boomer's shoulder, a rare occurrence. "I use my rule to second that," he said, also a rare occurrence.

"And I third it!" Butch concluded, unprompted but enthusiastic, nonetheless.

A sigh never sounded as disappointed and aggravated as Brick's did at that moment. "Your 'third' doesn't count, idiot; you already said a rule!" Brick shouted, giving Butch a strong slap on the back of his head that would snap any regular human's neck. He ignored Butch's twitching and growling, focusing on the pink Powerpuff in front of him. "We got ourselves a deal?"

Blossom's lips twisted, unsure. That was fair, for her to be indecisive right now. Boomer had heard about the last bet Brick and Blossom had, which may or may not have been the cause of Brick's tantrum, which may or may not have been the cause of that forest fire a few weeks back. If he weren't sworn to keep quiet about it, Boomer would have brought that up.

Boomer huffed. This was taking too long. "Don't tell me you guys are chicken?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"I think they might be bro." Butch let out a snicker.

"Yup," Brick agreed, tagging along. He only ever joined in on these joking sessions whenever it meant the downfall of those he despised, and he despised nobody more than the Powerpuff Girls. A teasing smile spread across his face. "I'm seeing a large indication of chicken behavior. If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say they're sprouting their wings right now."

"Chicken? _Wings_?" Bubbles frowned, clearly offended. Funny, considering she was the most chicken out of all them in Boomer's opinion.

"Sorry, what was that? I only heard _bawk-bawk-bawk_!" Placing his hands on his hips, Butch mimicked a chicken almost perfectly. Seriously, the guy could pass as one if he didn't look the way he did.

Buttercup's eyes turned red in an instant and a laser beam was just ready to escape her. Just before she could blast one of them, Blossom placed a calming hand on her younger sister.

"Buttercup. It's okay; you'll get to let out some of that anger soon. Save it for now." Crossing her arms, Blossom met Brick's eye. "As long as there's no destruction of anything outside of our game, we agree to the terms. Deal set?"

Brick smirked, satisfied. "Deal set, Pinky."

The two leaders shared a look, an agreement made without any sort of handshaking. Tension hung heavily around them, practically thick enough to cut. From the corner of his eye, Boomer could see Butch begin to shake, a familiar wild look overgrowing his features. Next to him, Brick stood as still and composed as ever, but his heart thundered in excitement. Boomer could only tap his foot in a poor attempt at calming himself down, already pumped up for the game before it even began.

_Bing… Bong… Bing… Bong…_

The Townsville Tower Clock rang loudly in their ears, signifying the beginning of their battle. Quickly, the two groups zoomed to opposite sides of the empty field to start preparations. Boomer stood straight, staring at his leader to await orders.

"Alright boys, listen up!" Brick picked up a nearby stick from the ground and began to trace out a picture in the snow. "I'm gonna make the basic structure of our fort, and it's gonna look like this. Butch, you're good at barriers, so whip something up both here and here! Make sure they're nice and sturdy!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Without so much a second glance, Butch flew off, already doing what he was told.

Brick's eyes shifted over to Boomer momentarily before settling back on the snow. "Make snowballs, Boomer. _Lots_ of 'em. I'm expectin' stacks of 'em that reach the sky by the time these five minutes are up. Capeesh?"

Boomer nodded. "Consider it caposh…ed…?" he promised, cringing at his stupidity because _who the fuck says that?_

"…If we weren't on a time limit, I would hit you," Brick said, and Boomer could not blame him for saying it.

"I'll do it for ya boss!" Butch zoomed back to leave a painful slap at the back of Boomer's head, and he just escaped Boomer's elbow to the gut. "Ya gotta be quicker than that, loser!"

Another battle against Butch that ended in a loss. Boomer couldn't lie: he was a tad bit disappointed and a lot bit angry. "You _asshole!_ " he shouted, debating if he should give him a laser beam to the butt just to spite him.

Too late. Brick was already giving his youngest brother a look different from the one earlier, a look that said, " _Less whining, more snowballs."_

Boomer smacked his teeth in defeat before he took cover behind a nearby tree. There would be many chances to get back at Butch, but not many chances to do what he was told in this battle.

The Chemical X worked on overdrive, allowing his hands to work faster than the average human. The cold nibbled at his bare hands, but he tried his hardest to ignore it. He placed the snowballs in hidden areas he knew his brothers could find, hid them in bushes, trees, and in various spots of their snow fort, which was coming together nicely. He used thin branches to create sturdy holdings for multiple snowballs, built hidden traps that blended well with the snow, and made sure almost every area was taken care of.

Scoop, mold, place, repeat. That was his current task, and he would carry it through so long as his leader commanded him.

"Time!" Brick and Blossom shouted in unison, their voices somehow blending in with one another.

Boomer hurried to finish his last trap. It was sloppy and would probably be noticed, but it didn't hurt to complete the task, just in case he'd get lucky. As soon as he placed the last twig on the ground, he heard Butch shout, "Look out!"

Butch's warning wasn't needed because Boomer could _feel_ something approaching him. He zoomed to one of the fort's barriers, and just missed out on a snowball to the head. "Close one," he sighed, noticing the barrier spark in light green. He gave a small, silent thanks to Butch and his ability to create strong barriers.

"Damn it!" With his x-ray vision, Boomer could see the way Buttercup glared at him as if were the worst person on the planet. Her eyes were blazing in red. Just when she was about to give him a laser beam to the dome, a line of snowballs traveled towards her direction, and she had no choice but to shift her attention.

Boomer took the small window of chance to observe his surroundings. Across the field, the Powerpuff Girls' fort stood tall and strong, decorated with guard snowmen that held onto stick swords on both the upper and lower levels of the fort. He had to admit, it looked pretty cool, even though the Rowdyruff fort was cooler by default since they had carved designs on their fort thanks to Brick's artistic eye and their snowmen looked like knights rather than just regular snowmen.

There was one person he knew would probably falter in the battle, the weakest link. The quicker he could take out one, the quicker his group could take them all out. He felt a small but familiar presence towards his right and, turning in that direction, barely noticed Bubbles crouching behind trees and bushes, traveling to the boys' snow fort. She wasn't the best at hiding—those twigs in her hair were admittedly stylish though they gave her away—but the attempt was respectable enough.

Before she could tiptoe her way up the fort's stairs, Boomer charged forward, blocking her path. "Where do ya think you're going, huh?"

Boomer watched as Bubbles inhaled sharply through her nose without a second thought, swished her mouth around—what the heck was she doing—and spat directly at him, and _oh fuck, it was green and fast and he almost got hit in the stomach, what the fuck?_ Instead, the monstrous green goo landed on the edge of the Ruff fort, disintegrating a small piece of it into a pile of water.

"Darn," she said plainly as if she didn't just fling a bunch of her boogers and snot at him.

He hated to admit it, but that was simultaneously one of the coolest yet most disgusting things he ever had the (dis)pleasure of experiencing. He was almost tempted to ask her where she learned to do that, maybe even attempt to persuade her at teaching him, but there was no time to ask the enemy even the best of questions. Bubbles might have been the weakest, but she was still a strong opponent, and that had been one close call too many.

"That's it! I'm gonna get you!" It was a promise, somewhat to her but mostly to himself. He _had_ to get her. This was his chance to show her that he was capable of defeating her, even if it was in some tiny snowball match that would be deemed unimportant in the next coming weeks.

Bubbles narrowed her eyes and quickly stole one of the snowballs Boomer had placed near a tree, concentrating as a bright blue light surrounded her hands. Her hands continued to glow as the energy ball encompassed the snowball, a crackling sound emerging. "Not if I get you first!" She closed one eye and aimed carefully before tossing the electrical ball in a professional throw.

Determination ran through Boomer's veins, and before he knew it, he was forming a bat in his hands. The yellow sparks flew through his veins, allowing bat and boy to become one. Holding it tightly, he hit the snowball right as it was about to land on him. She didn't falter and instead went to another snowball to try again. One after another, he'd hit snowballs just as they were about to hit him.

"Hah! Home run!" He eyed as one of the snowballs flew far beyond. It shot off in a perfect arch in the sky, exploding into bright blue fireworks. A job well done. Overkill, sure, but the best successes typically went in that direction.

Gently, Bubbles leaned against a nearby tree, crossing her arms. "Is it _really_ a home run?" she asked, smirking, and right then and there, he knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. She was supposed to be devastated, not cocky. What could she possibly be so confident about? And what did she mean by a _real_ home run? Each snowball was flung away as clear as day—

It was then that Boomer knew that he lost.

Something was approaching, a stray snowball that shouldn't have mattered as much as it did now. It had missed him—or so he thought at first until he felt it curve and zoom right back towards him. He turned quickly, and at that point, it was too late to dodge. When the snowball collided with the edge of his shoulder, it hit him hard _._ In a flash, he was buried deep within the snow, head smacked against a tree, and the trail of snow in front of him was an indication that his body was nowhere near his fort anymore.

With a groan, he sat up and looked at his counterpart. She looked excited, then shocked, then excited again, then shocked again. Honestly, she should just stick with one emotion. _Girls._ They were so complicated.

Finally, she decided that happiness was what she would stick with. Of course. The girl made of literal sugar would never decide on anything less. "I did it!" Bubbles cheered before exploding into an unprompted dance that would have looked ridiculous on anybody else but looked somewhat fitting on her. Her low-tied pigtails swished left and right as she twirled around, enveloping herself in her success. "Go me! Go me!"

Boomer didn't want to look at her anymore. So, he decided to focus on the tree she was nearby.

And then he saw a blessing in disguise.

"Yeah, go you," he agreed, quiet but loud enough for her to hear his voice, hear the tease lying within his words.

And she did hear. She stopped. Froze in place. Stared at his finger pointed at the sky as if it were the most terrifying thing she had ever seen in her life.

Slowly, she looked up. There, hiding in the tree she had just rested on, lied a pile of snowballs inside of a net made of thin twigs and snot just waiting for their victim. Her eyes drifted to the ground, where her fluffy boot was perfectly placed on the twig trap he had set last minute, the ironic savior that he had never even imagined to praise as much as now.

"Uh oh," Bubbles squeaked before the twig net gave way, and soon, she was buried in the snowballs.

 _Perfect._ "Still got it," Boomer cheered quietly. His loss resulted in a win, and that was okay. Any win was a good win.

It was funny, the way Bubbles rose from a large pile of snowballs. Her hair was now a mess, and there was a bright red circle on her forehead that looked like it would be there for the next couple of hours. She touched the area gently and her lip quivered. When Boomer saw her eyes watering, he wondered if she was going to cry over a dumb snowball fight.

But then, she laughed. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her sides, unable to control her volume. "That _hurt_!" She fell back into the pile of snow to giggle some more.

If Boomer were forced to describe her laugh in one word, it would be pretty. It rang in his ears like bells, and though a good portion of him wanted to knock the laugh right out of her, there was a tiny part of him that relished in it. There was a charm to the joy and laughter of the Powerpuff Girls showing the traits she was created to have right in front of him.

The battle continued in the background, but it was quiet in Boomer's ears. All he could hear was laughter, a beautiful symphony amongst a raging war. He stared at her, breathless.

And then another snowball hit his head.

"Ow!" Boomer's head snapped away from the blue Powerpuff, and he glared at the culprit: Blossom. "I'm already out; why would you do that?"

Blossom grew an innocent look. "Just to be sure. Sorry!" She most certainly did not sound sorry in the slightest, but he didn't get the chance to yell at her again since she flew away without looking back.

With a growl, Boomer took cover behind a bush, figuring that both sides would get the hint that he's no longer in the game. He watched as his brothers cleverly maneuvered around the girls' tricks, already three steps ahead. It was no surprise to him. On a good day, they were all a little too good at the art of throwing and dodging a snowball.

The game ended the way Boomer expected: with a Rowdyruff win. When Blossom finally took a snowball to the back, his brothers let out a loud, boisterous cheer, then exploded into what they liked to call their "Super Ultra Mega Awesome Victory Celebration," which was just them slapping each other hard across the back of each other's necks. It was painful—excruciating to be exact—but they were all too happy to notice.

"Hah! We win and you lose, Powerdumbs!" After giving one last hit to Brick's neck, Butch was not afraid to get all up in the girls' faces. Even when he was ultimately punched in the stomach by Buttercup so hard, he flew back into a tree, cracking the bark a little, there was no indication of his spirit being broken.

Blossom's tight-lipped smile showed just how much restraint she had. She even watched as they hit each other without batting an eye. "Wow, I'm so proud. That's win number fourteen out of a total of thirty-eight competitions for you guys, but who's counting, right?"

Brick rolled his eyes. "Clearly you do. As if that hardly matters."

That was an ironic statement. The Rowdyruffs kept a detailed list of their wins and losses, and it stayed attached to the fridge back in the Jojo lair. Every Friday morning specifically, Mojo would yell at the boys about it.

"Pick up the slack and put those cursed Powerpuff Girls in their rightful place because I, Mojo Jojo, have created you, the Rowdyruff Boys to do so, and therefore, you must do as I say," the large monkey would rant. Typically, Boomer tuned him out, Brick did a little huff, and Butch threw a spoon or two at him.

Speaking of Butch, he jumped back on his feet. "'Sides, eleven more to go and we can finally put ya in your rightful place. One bet closer to victory!"

Blossom looked shocked. "He can be mature?"

"He can _count_?" Buttercup asked, sounding even more surprised. That was fair. Nobody knew how good Butch was at mental math, not when he acted like a dumbass for ninety-eight percent of the day.

It was funny how quickly Butch's attitude changed. "Oh, screw you both."

"Yeah!" Brick agreed. "Just 'cause his brain ain't always there don't mean he can't be smart."

"Exactly!" Butch paused. "Wait a minute… My brain's _always_ in my head!"

Blossom pinched her nose. "Idiots…" she murmured, which was dumb because once again, they could all hear it. Boomer seriously wondered if the girls knew that or not.

"Idiots!?" Brick and Butch shouted, sounding offended.

Boomer decided to tune them out. It was the start of the same argument he had to hear almost every time the Powerpuffs and Rowdyruffs crossed paths with one another. Instead, he focused on the only other quiet person.

Bubbles still had a huge smile on her face, looking pleased even though she had lost. The red mark on her forehead was slowly yet surely fading, and the snow finally made its way off her head. She didn't even bother to remove the twigs that were stuffed in her scrunchies, and though her hair still looked a mess, the whole look fit her. "Good game, Boomer!" she said happily, sticking out her hand for him to shake.

In any other moment, Boomer would not have even given her a second glance. But something felt _different_ about her then. He could feel the familiar magnetic pull force his arm out, his hand grabbing hers firmly. "Yeah. Good game," he replied slowly.

What once was shy was no more. Instead, her energy came out in a happy burst, circling his arms to travel up to his cheeks. It was warm, comforting in a way, and despite himself, he gave her a small smile. It didn't match hers, yet he could tell that there was some connection they made through their mutual expressions.

"Bye losers!" In an instant, Butch grabbed Boomer by his hoodie, dragging him away. The heel of Boomer's black boots made an uneven trail in the snow, though Butch paid that no mind.

"Whoa!" Boomer clutched his jacket by the collar, so his brother didn't break his windpipe. He had already gone through that pain last Tuesday; he did _not_ need another extended Chemical X body repair.

The trio matched off in silence. Well, more like Brick and Butch marched off in silence while Boomer was dragged along, his arms crossed and a pout on his face. Honestly, they treated him like such a _baby._

"I can walk, ya know," Boomer decided to announce a bit louder than needed. Predictably, Butch tossed him into the road. He almost got hit by an oncoming car, but Boomer decided to let it slide.

Brick gave Boomer a pointed look. "I'm not even gonna ask what _that_ was."

Oh. Yeah. _That._ Boomer already knew what Brick was talking about: the… moment he and Bubbles shared. Thank HIM they were going to avoid that potential conversation; Boomer truly didn't want to even think about it. Instead, he focused on Brick's finger pressed harshly on his chest.

"We almost lost because of you," Brick said.

Excuses were Boomer's best friend. Nowadays, he could come up with one without even trying. "I was distracting her to get her out! Sometimes a win takes a sacrifice." He added a shrug of the shoulders because that was what people did when they were casual and truthful.

"And your sacrifice was not in vain, even if you did get out first." Butch placed a supportive hand on Boomer's shoulder, making sure to give it a tight grip. "Thanks, bro. Now let's bounce; I'm _starving_ after whooping some Powderpuff ass!" Without waiting for his brothers, Butch flew up and began to head home.

However, Brick kept his eyes on Boomer, not budging in the slightest. Getting inspected by him felt like getting inspected by someone who had every right to judge the way a person looked, thought, and acted. His red eyes scanned Boomer's blue ones, and for a moment, Boomer thought he was going to get in trouble over a simple handshake.

"Yeah," Brick finally said, breaking eye contact to float alongside Butch, "let's go."

Boomer swallowed, nodded, and took flight behind his brothers.

In the silence, Boomer thought. He thought about the snowball fight. He thought about Bubbles. He thought about her laugh, thought about the handshake they shared, thought about how the way she looked at him seemed to stick inside his mind, even though he didn't want it to.

And then, he figured it out.

Respect. She gave him a look of respect. Bubbles Utonium respected him. Maybe not always, but at that moment, it was undeniable.

"Huh," he said under his breath. He didn't know why, but the thought of that made him feel… satisfied. Maybe she _did_ think of him as a rival, or maybe she only thought of him as one during this playful encounter. Either way, for today, that was enough.

He could still feel the way her energy encircled him, almost like a tease. It stayed on his hands, making his fingers twitch. His stomach felt funny, almost like there were bugs in there. And he felt like he had to puke, but a good puke rather than a painful one.

Boomer could have continued thinking about it, but deep down, he knew he shouldn't. Instead, he sighed, shoving the thought of Bubbles Utonium far out of his brain as he and his brothers continued their flight home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter down, many more to go!
> 
> I will be trying to update this fanfic on the first Saturday of every month, so look out for the next chapter on or around February 6th. And omg I can keep this promise because for once, I actually pre-wrote a good majority of the chapters. You have no idea how proud I am of myself— but YEAH, if anything happens, I'll be sure to let you guys know in advance.
> 
> As always, things like comments (!), kudos, bookmarks, and subs are appreciated! It helps me out more than you know, so please do so if you can. Thank you all so much for reading and have a nice day! :)
> 
> Next Chapter: February  
> "Love makes the world go 'round... apparently."


	2. February

_Love makes the world go 'round… apparently._

* * *

Boomer knew it was going to be a bad day the moment he sat up in bed and saw the time on his alarm clock.

Waking up late wasn't new for him. Alarm clocks were only good for one thing: decoration. He just assumed that one of his brothers would wake him up and give him at least a chance to be on time for school like they usually did. But no, instead, they left him to fend for himself.

"Dicks," he grumbled, pushing himself out of bed.

Boomer glanced at himself in the mirror and cringed. He looked an absolute mess; he had an extremely red nose, crust in the corners of his eyes, and a dried-up trail of saliva that went from the edge of his lip to the very tip of his chin. He didn't even want to pay attention to how horrendous his hair looked.

A nice, long shower was needed. He was already late anyway, so there was no point in rushing it.

The hot water was a great greeting and served as the perfect distraction for the upcoming hours he'd have to suffer sitting at a desk learning information that wouldn't matter after graduation. He didn't even understand why school was somewhere he had to go. It was never important when they were younger, but _no,_ education just _had_ to be something Brick was so focused on now.

"In this society, education is power," Brick had said the day he decided to force Mojo Jojo into signing them up for classes. "The best, most efficient way to take over the world is with a smart brain. I ain't taking over the world with idiots."

Honestly, if going to school was what it took, then Boomer didn't give two shits about taking over the world. But anything Brick said, went. He had no choice but to see it through, at least until high school was over.

Taking his time, he finished prepping up for the day. When he stared into the mirror again, he looked decent: not too great, but not too bad either. Then again, a place like school did not deserve his best looks. This was as good as it was going to get.

His battered backpack sat pathetically against the foot of the triple bunk bed, and Boomer almost felt like burning it, just to end its suffering and satisfy his needs. Instead, he crouched down, stuffed some random papers in his bag, and hoped that at least some of them were important things that he didn't remember doing.

Boomer thought for a bit, then quickly stuffed a _Captain Spaceman_ comic in his bag as well. Brick had said that his brothers needed to read more, and while Butch angrily chose short novels, Boomer picked up comic books. ("You're lucky they have words," Brick had said. "Otherwise, I would've burned them.") The series had become somewhat of an addiction for him; he couldn't go a day without at least reading a few pages. Soon, he'd be all caught up with the series and would have to wait three months for the next comics like everyone else. He was not excited about that.

When he stepped out into the laboratory that led to the exit, he was greeted by the sight of a huge, ugly monkey that also just had to be one of his creators. Mojo loved his morning routine, filled with cooking a small breakfast, sitting at his personal table with his favorite newspaper, and lamenting about how shitty the world was. He was like the average teenager, but worse because he never shut up and never cooked for anybody else but himself. His selfishness was one of his worst flaws.

"Who goes there?" Mojo asked, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper.

Boomer rolled his eyes. "It's just me, Mojo." He floated to a nearby cabinet, checking to see if there were any pop tarts left so he could enjoy a quick breakfast. Of course, there was only an empty box with crumbs.

"Ah, Boomer, the youngest one of the Rowdyruff Boys, the group which I have rightfully created." Mojo raised an eyebrow. "Why are you still here when you should be at school, learning as all other students do?"

"Your sons didn't wake me up." That sounded a bit angrier than needed—and honestly, Boomer shouldn't have been as mad as he was considering he didn't even want to attend school in the first place—but it couldn't be helped. "And you didn't, either."

"There would be no need for Brick, Butch, or I to do so because you have an alarm clock, the annoying device whose sole purpose is to wake you up, and even if you didn't, you should have heard how loud your brothers are because they are typically loud no matter the time of day." Dramatically, Mojo flipped his newspaper to the next page, making sure to avoid any sort of eye contact. He only did that when he felt a tad bit guilty, Boomer had noticed. "Not my fault you, Boomer Jojo, my creation, are an idiot."

Boomer's blood began to boil. "I'm not—" He stopped. This was obviously a dead argument (it was _always_ a dead argument). Even though it had yet to fully begin, it would be a waste of time to even argue back. So instead, he threw the empty pop tart box in the trash and huffed, marching toward the exit of his home. "Ugh, whatever, I'm leaving," he grumbled, gripping onto the straps of his backpack.

"Good, it will finally be quieter, and I will finally have a better opportunity to read and complain about today's news." Mojo shooed him away with a singular hand. "Now, get going, boy! And do not forget that you are a _Rowdyruff,_ a Rowdyruff of _my_ creation, and you had better have a great day, because I am commanding you, my creation, to do so."

 _Have a good day._ Yeah, as if that would happen.

Boomer could have flown to get to his destination quicker, but he didn't want to. Once again, he was already late, and there no point in rushing the inevitable. The snow was light, only a thin blanket on the sidewalk below. Townsville was rather quiet, or as quiet as Townsville could get. People weren't outside, choosing to stay indoors on such a cold day. Other than the wind, there was only one sound that Boomer's super-hearing couldn't ignore.

The love songs.

In almost every single house, store, and car, a stupid love song would play. Townsville reeked of unoriginality; everybody seemed to be turned to the same station listening to the same song. It said something about how "love made the world go 'round," which Boomer knew was false since he had just learned that the Earth spins because of space rocks and debris, or something along those lines. If earplugs were an option, he would have stuffed those in his ears without a second thought to listen to anything else.

It wasn't until he entered the double doors of the school when he realized what today was, making the song even more understandable and even more unbearable.

"Oh great," he muttered, accepting the detention slip that was given to him by Ms. Fallen, "it's the fourteenth."

Boomer couldn't understand why Valentine's Day was such a big deal. A full day for couples just to give an excuse at showcasing public affection for crowds of people to see? _Barf._ That just screamed performative. He'd rather step on a mile-long trail of Legos barefoot than be here right now.

Pokey Oaks High never ceased to over-decorate for any holiday. Red, pink, and white streamers hung from the ceiling and across students' lockers, heart signs and posters covered almost every space, and _oh fuck_ , even the loudspeaker was playing that cheesy ass romantic pop song that Boomer would have stuck in his head for the next few hours. TV show Valentine's Day special episodes had absolutely nothing on this school's sense of style (or lack thereof) apparently.

It was too late to back out now. He knew if he turned around and exited the building, Ms. Fallen would be on his ass for the next month. He'd probably earn himself detention for that long, too. "Let's just get this over yet." He sighed then began to walk through the vacant hallway.

By the time he reached his locker, which was decorated with _stupid fucking_ _streamers without his permission_ , the bell rang. He cursed under his breath. No matter what class he was in, his brothers always found their way over to him, even for a few seconds. The school thought it was an amazing idea to place their lockers in a row because they were siblings and they "loved each other's company," which was complete bullshit. Considering how they left him without warning earlier, it was obvious that he didn't want to see them at all for the rest of the day.

However, the world seemed to have it out for him. "Hey Boom, ya finally made it!" Slinging his arm over his younger brother's shoulder, Butch gave him a wide grin that lacked all forms of sincerity. His face looked more punchable than usual.

" _Hey Boom, ya finally made it_ ," Boomer mimicked, and he even managed to tolerate the slap he received on the back of his head a little more than normal. Cranky Boomer was braver than Awake Boomer. "Thanks for waking me up, by the way. You're such a _great_ brother. I love you." His lip turned down more. "Fucking _asshole._ "

Butch's eyes shone in fake innocence. "Hey, I tried to save your ass! I know how much you hate Valentine's; I gave you the golden opportunity you craved to ditch." Quickly, he went into his locker, grabbing a random notebook that probably wasn't even filled with a singular note. He always carried things for show at school; any information would either be stored in his brain—he had a memory that could sometimes match Brick's depending on the circumstances—or be ignored and cast away forever. "Noble of me, I know."

 _Ha_. That was almost funny. Butch was anything but noble. "Too late now," Boomer huffed, stuffing his backpack in his locker. "I'm stuck here for the rest of this shitty day. With detention no less."

Another tease would've most likely escaped Butch's lips, but he was ultimately cut off by a loud crowd rushing through the hall. Everyone already knew where they were headed. It was a known fact at Pokey Oaks that on Valentine's Day, there was a competition to win the heart of the one Powerpuff Girl that happened to show up in Boomer's life over and over. Of course, there'd be no winner, but the battle always continued year after year.

Boomer couldn't help but glare in her direction. As usual, Bubbles Utonium had a stupid smile on her face as a crowd of people of all genders handed her gifts. From cards to teddy bears to even a jar of… wait, what the fuck _was_ that gooey purple shit in that jar? Whatever, it didn't matter. Either way, she gained a lot of gifts that couldn't even fit in her cramped locker.

Butch smirked at the sight. "I see you're starin'. Jealous?"

"As if." Scowling, Boomer looked away and faced his locker again, grabbing his Algebra textbook, a pencil, and a highlighter. "It's so annoying how her fans parade the halls. Bunch of fuckin' simps," he said, slamming his locker.

"Can't say I blame 'em," Butch replied. Boomer gave him a look. He just shrugged "What? I'd give Sugar a gift, too, if my pride wasn't on the line."

Boomer stared at his older brother. That stupid nickname he gave her rattled in his brain. _Sugar, sugar, sugar._ He didn't know why, but any time Butch called her that, he wanted to give him a punch or two. "You're kidding," Boomer said, pushing his anger aside.

Apparently, Butch was not kidding. "Sugar's cute, probably the cutest girl in school. You can't say she's not cute."

Boomer could, and he would because when it came to Bubbles, he was always brutally honest. "She's _not_ cute." Saying that made his chest hurt a bit, but that was probably because his chest always hurt when he spoke about her.

"Why are you lying?" As expected, Brick came walking up towards his brothers, a large AP History textbook in his hands. He had a bit of red and white confetti on his hat, and there was a yellow rose tucked in his pocket, but Boomer made sure not to comment on those things since he could practically feel that incoming punch from a mile away. "I don't look over liars, Boomer."

"What the—" Boomer had to rub his eyes, just to make sure he was not dreaming the fact that his eldest brother implied that a girl—not just any girl, but a _Powerpuff_ —was and still is cute. "Not you, too!"

"Oh, grow up." With one swift kick, Brick's locker opened. He traded one large textbook for another, probably something like AP Physics or AP Calculus or AP Whatever-The-Fuck-Was-Offered-At-This-School. "And don't think I didn't notice you were late. Stop depending on us to wake you up and do better. We're almost seniors for fuck's sake."

Boomer frowned but gave a stiff nod. It was better to just accept Brick's commands than to argue with him. That was a war just waiting to happen. "Don't worry, I'm heading to class now. I can't fuckin' stand being out here anyway."

Brick looked satisfied. He was always his happiest when his brothers fell in line. "Good. Use that pent-up teenage anger of yours to get go to class and get good grades."

"I don't have no 'pent-up teenage anger!' And that doesn't even make sense—"

Brick slammed his locker shut. The sound echoed through the halls, and some students took sneaky glances towards the Rowdyruffs. Some even dared to whisper. They were lucky Brick was distracted. Otherwise, there would have been some yelling. Maybe even a fire. Brick was a wild card, especially on Tuesdays.

Brick looked at Boomer directly in his eye. Boomer knew that look. Brick used it all the time. If he were asked to translate it into a sentence, it'd be something like, _Please, don't give me a reason to fight you in the middle of this hallway. you little shit._

"Right, class and good grades," Boomer mumbled. "I'll see you guys at lunch."

Brick ruffled Boomer's hair, something he knew Boomer hated but nonetheless continued to do because why the fuck not? "There we go. See you, bro." He headed up the stairs towards his advanced class filled with advanced people that Boomer prayed he'd never have to see.

"Bye, Boom!" Unlike Brick, Butch flew off with an unnecessary amount of ego, purposely bumping into normal humans who just wanted to get through another school day without being pushed around by some hyperactive super. He was probably going to land himself in detention again since the school had a strict "no powers unless there's an emergency" rule, and even the emergency rule was mostly directed to the Powerpuffs. Of course, Butch would not care and take his detention slip with a smile.

Boomer let out a much-needed sigh. Going to class wouldn't be much of a problem if he didn't have to pass the locker that was surrounded by a sea of simps. They were already annoying enough from this distance, confessing their "love" to someone who had the terrible fate to love everyone back unconditionally, no matter who they were.

Every day, Bubbles had the opportunity to land her eyes on him. Some days, when she saw him, she would try to talk to him, and he had no choice but to respond because he could never fully ignore her. But today could not be one of those days. He already had a headache. A blue Powerpuff would be the icing on his ever-growing shit cake.

Ten steps. It always took him ten steps to walk past her locker. Maybe eleven if he slipped on that cursed floor tile that always seemed to be covered with something wet. Nevertheless, he could do it without being detected by her and getting a stupid wave and a stupid smile and a stupid… everything.

Boomer's eyes focused on the door of his Algebra class at the far end of the hall. It seemed so much farther than usual. He took one step, then another, and by the sixth step, he was sure that he was going to make it and be able to get through this shitty day.

But step nine. Step _fucking_ nine.

For some strange reason, step nine resulted in him getting caught in a pile of pink and white streamers that were most definitely not there before. He fell with a loud thud, and since he tried to catch himself, he accidentally landed his palms on the ground a bit too hard, leaving a crack in its place. A loud _boom_ followed because of course Boomer Jojo caused a booming sound in a school hallway the one time he didn't want to.

"Oh, Boomer!"

 _Well, great._ So much for avoiding her.

When Boomer stood up, he saw Bubbles right in front of him. The sea of simps had thankfully gone away, but of course, she had not. She stood at the same height as him, possibly a little bit taller, though he did not have the heart to even think about admitting that. Her smile was radiant yet poisonous all the same.

"Good, I caught you," Bubbles said. "Tried to find you before homeroom, but I didn't see you. Here!" She placed a small, delicate item in his hands, something much too gentle for a boy like him to even think about handling.

Boomer looked at his hand, then looked at her. For extra measure, he repeated the action, expecting the Prank'd crew's cameras all in his face and the Prank'd host to tell him that he was just the punchline of some elaborate comedy skit that will air all throughout the world. Somehow, however, nothing like that happened. "What is this?" he finally asked. "A joke? If so, it's not funny."

Bubbles giggled, and instantly, Boomer's stomach felt weird. "Not a joke. Just a Valentine's Day gift. Duh," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world because, technically, it was.

Boomer narrowed his eyes, inspecting the item. It was nothing special, just a yarn bracelet with beads that spelled out his name. She had used a vibrant blue and a simple white for the colors, and the string was an electrifying yellow. "But… why?" For extra measure, he looked to see if there were any traces of poison. There were not.

"Because everyone deserves some love today, Boomer, even platonically! Or… in our case, uh..."

"Bitter rivals?"

"I mean, I wouldn't use the word _rival,_ " she said, looking just a tiny bit offended, "but also, yeah. As the song says—"

" _Love makes the world go 'round!_ " the voice on the intercom sang right on cue in a similar pitch and tone.

Oh. So that was _her_ singing the song. No wonder it was so damn annoying.

"Okay, sure. But why me and why this year?" Admittedly, Boomer was still stumped. This was the first time she ever gave him something outside a punch to his face. She most certainly did not have to show him any form of "love" because it was all fake. "You hate me."

Bubbles frowned. He hated to admit it, but it didn't fit her face at all. "I don't hate you."

Boomer paused. Blinked. Processed her lie before replying. "Yes, you do. And I hate you."

Somehow, her frown deepened. He really wanted to punch it off her lips; it was just as annoying as her typical smile. "Do you really?" she asked, quiet but clear enough for him to hear.

 _Did he?_ The obvious answer was yes, he did. He was literally created for the sole purpose of both hating and destroying her. She knew that. He knew that. Everybody in Townsville knew that. But why was it so hard to say now? Why couldn't he just tell her that she was the absolute worst, just like he did back when they were younger?

"Well," Bubbles started, breaking Boomer out of his thoughts. "you don't have to accept it since you hate me and all, but I still hope you do."

Her tone and face held no sadness, but it might as well have, the way her eyes stared at him or the way her energy flowed towards his heart like a knife carved just for him. He could feel it, feel how hurt she was. It still didn't make sense, though. Why should she feel bad if he was created to be the opposite of her, the one she should despise most of all? Why did she have to give a gift to the one who shouldn't even deserve it in her eyes?

She held her books close to her chest, eyes now staring past him. "I worked hard on it, and I'm serious when I say you deserve it, Boomer." She didn't leave him any space to respond, turning on the tips of her toes towards the opposite direction. "Gotta head to Bio, so I'll see you later."

As Bubbles walked away to blend into a crowd of students, she looked as though she grew a bit taller. Shoulders aligned and back straight, she did not take one glance back.

Boomer didn't know how long he stood there staring at the back of her head, but it was long enough that the warning bell got him out of his thoughts enough to move at autopilot toward his class. In one hand were his books, heavy and stupid and annoying, and in the other was the bracelet, light and stupid and annoying. He felt like a scale, unable to control which side he would tilt toward, and the items in his hand were the bosses. It was overwhelming in a way he didn't understand.

And so, like any other moment where he felt he could not come up with an answer, he did what he did best: he threw the thought away.

It was impressive how Boomer eyed the outdoor garbage can through a window toward the entrance of the school, aimed, and threw the bracelet away. It landed quietly in the bin, sliding down easily without any restraint. The weight in Boomer's arms finally felt lifted, and he was grateful for that.

_See you later._

Boomer almost gagged at the thought of her words which sounded so gentle and sweet for reasons unknown. She was still positive even when she was most likely upset, all for nothing. Her hatred for him might not have been clear as day, but he could see through her like she was a mere ghost.

_See you later._

Hah.

He desperately hoped he would not see her later.

* * *

Boomer couldn't sleep because he kept seeing stupid Bubbles in his stupid dreams.

Every time he'd close his eyes, it was like she was standing right there in front of him. That bright but fake smile would stay on her face, and there was no avoiding her, even when he tried to look away. He could _feel_ her sad eyes on him, the perfect contradiction to her smile. The only way he could successfully get the image of her out of his brain was when he had his eyes open.

All-nighters weren't an issue. Boomer had pulled plenty to read the latest editions of _Captain Spaceman_ or play a couple of games on his phone. But he needed to sleep because, at the end of the day, he was still somewhat human, and school was unfortunately scheduled for the next day. Brick wouldn't let two days of skipping slide; that was far too much, even for someone as evil and uncaring as himself. And besides, another detention spent with Mr. Green's loud sips of his neverending cup of coffee and Butch's annoying whispers from behind him were absolutely torturous thoughts to even think about.

"Maybe I need some fresh air…" he murmured to himself, slipping out of his bed. He could hear Brick's loud snoring from the top of their bunk bed, while Butch was completely silent under his covers in the middle bunk. This time was better than any. Those two wouldn't wake up if a bomb hit their room.

He quickly slipped on some fuzzy socks and boots and shrugged one of his navy blue coats over his shoulders. Flying out of the Jojo Lair, he was met with the bitter cold of the night. He held his arms close to his chest in a poor attempt to keep warm. The snow was a bit heavier than earlier and the skies were dark, but thankfully, Boomer could see through it all. He let his mind go into a temporary blank, traveling freely with no regard to where or why. Free flying was a fun activity he started when he was younger and craved some sort of escape, and he often found the answers he needed from doing it.

However, the place he ended up didn't seem like an answer.

"What the fuck?" he asked, landing in front of the worst place on Earth: Pokey Oaks High. "Oh, c'mon legs," he groaned, "you've gotta be joking. _Please_ tell me you're joking."

Sadly, his legs rarely joked. They went where the answers were hidden… even when the answers included the worst person to ever exist. Staring him in the face was the god-awful bracelet with the ridiculous beads that spelled out his name, right where he had left it: in the trash next to an uneaten salad and some homework with a couple of bad grades on them.

This was the bracelet's home. This was where it belonged. It was worthless to him.

Boomer sighed. "But…"

 _But._ He guessed it was sort of cool. The bracelet, not the creator. It was made with his absolute favorite colors down to the proper shade, and when he looked closer, he could see that each bead had a design on the back of them. One bead even had a small but amazingly painted picture of Captain Spaceman on it. No matter what Boomer thought about Bubbles, he could not deny how much he genuinely liked the bracelet.

"This is stupid." He wasn't talking to anybody in particular, not even to himself. And it _was_ stupid. It was stupid that he flew out past midnight to a trash can to steal a bracelet that was already originally his gift, to begin with. It was stupid he was trying so hard for something he had already denied.

But if it was the answer that allowed him to sleep with no interruption, then oh fucking well.

When he grabbed the bracelet and slipped it on his wrist, his body automatically felt tired, almost relieved in a way. It was weird, how one stupid bracelet made him feel like he could finally relax. Gently, he brushed his thumb against the beads, making sure to take note of the texture of each one. Some were rough, looking as though they've been dropped multiple times, while others were as smooth as how Blossom's legs looked. (That girl looked like she had the _smoothest legs ever_ in her wide range of skirts. He remembered admitting that once aloud. Butch had agreed. Brick had not.)

'B-O-O-M-E-R.' He stared at his name spelled out through the beads for a while, wondering how Bubbles Utonium looked sitting in her girly room surrounded by a pile of art supplies, working carefully just to create a gift for someone like him. He imagined she probably looked happy, excited even, just to hand the gift over. Even though she probably knew what his reaction would be, she still completed it.

It was fucking stupid. It was also admirable. Boomer could try to deny many things, but he could not deny that Bubbles Utonium had a sort of energy to her that made her a little bit worth his time.

The bracelet was warm on Boomer's wrist, as warm as the feeling in his gut and on his cheeks. Even as he began his flight back home, he didn't know what that meant. But he knew that deep down, he was rather satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word of the day: stupid. Boomer's vocabulary amuses me.
> 
> That's another chapter complete! Look at me, keeping my promises. A little early Valentine's treat if you will because everyone deserves some love, even in the form of a fanfic.
> 
> Many thanks to anybody that's interacted with this so far! You're all super amazing and I appreciate it so much. Any new kudos, comments, bookmarks, and/or subs will also be very much appreciated, so if you have the time, please feel free! I always love to hear from you all, no matter how big or small the interaction :)
> 
> The next chapter should be released on or around March 6th, so hope that you'll hold on until then! Thanks so much for reading, and until next time!
> 
> Next Chapter: March  
> "Because taking out your anger by fighting your counterpart in a virtual-stimulation program always helps."


	3. March

_Because taking out your anger by fighting your counterpart in a virtual-stimulation program always helps._

* * *

"Bad day?"

Boomer looked up from his spot on the semi-clean floor of Pokey Oaks High to meet the baby blue eyes of the one he hated the most. As she always did, Bubbles looked down on him, her face painted with worry.

He considered her question, just to have a few moments where he didn't have to talk to her. His classes hadn't even started yet and he had already gotten into an argument with his brothers about toothpaste, skipped out on breakfast since his family ate all that was left, and received a nice helping of bird poop on his new sneakers before he could walk through the double doors of this shit-hole.

So yeah, "bad day" wasn't even half of it.

But Bubbles Utonium did not deserve his answer. Just because she came up to him every school day as if they were friends did not mean that he considered her as one. Far from it, actually. "As if you care," he said. With a roll of his eyes, Boomer didn't even bother glancing at her again and instead focused on her feet. "I don't even wanna talk to you; go away."

Bubbles, however, did not go away. Of course, she didn't. No matter what he threw her way, she took it as if she didn't give a damn. Sometimes, she'd laugh as if it were a joke, and other times, like now, she remained quiet.

Her feet stayed stubbornly planted right next to him. He considered blasting them, just to see her Mary Janes catch fire. What would she do then? A goofy dance to put them out? Throw them and ultimately cause something else to catch on fire? Suddenly, Boomer understood Brick's love for fire; it was truly fun to think about in certain circumstances.

Finally, she spoke again. But the words she said this time differed from anything she had ever said to him before:

"Fight me."

Screw a fire. This was much more interesting. "I'm sorry," Boomer started, staring up at her, " _what?_ " Maybe he heard wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.

However, somehow, he didn't. "Fight me!" Bubbles repeated. This was so strange to both hear and see because Bubbles said it with the hugest grin on her face. "Professor says it's never good to bottle up your anger, so I try to release it by fighting! Maybe if we fight, I can help you destress a bit. It would be good for you, I think."

Fighting as a form of relieving stress? Boomer had heard Brick suggest that once, but he thought it was just an excuse for his older brother to show off and kick both his and Butch's asses any chance he got. It always worked, because anything Brick planned against his younger brothers worked out in his favor somehow, even when he was the underdog.

But that wasn't something Bubbles Utonium would do. She was too pure, too nice, too _sugary_ to do something that would do any form of harm on purpose. For some strange reason, she wanted to help him, even by doing something that could result in injuries. And for some stranger reason, that meant something to him.

Boomer wanted to reply in a sentence, though he didn't know what to say. Instead, rather stupidly, he looked at her, only managing to get out a small "uh."

Bubbles didn't seem to notice his distress and instead focused her attention on the big clock hanging on the school's walls. "Oh, class is about to start!" she said. "If you're down, just meet me by the entrance of the school after classes are over, okay?"

She didn't bother to wait for his response, quickly blending into the crowd to head to class.

Her suggestion was, in a way, a really bad idea. There was no doubt that they would fight again in the company of their elder siblings. It always happened. It didn't seem like anything could be gained from doing this one-on-one.

But… Boomer felt something.

It was that never-ending urge to pummel her into the ground. It was that call in his ears that refused to turn off, that call that spoke about how much he wanted to see her whimper, scream, and cry. It was the fact that she was Bubbles Utonium, a Powerpuff, and he was Boomer Jojo, a Rowdyruff.

There was something else underneath the surface. Something warm, something bright, something... comfortable. He tried to pay that part no mind but he knew, deep down, that it was there, it was strong, and it continued to grow.

Boomer realized something. It didn't matter what he should or shouldn't do. It mattered that he _wanted_ to do it.

"Fuck it," Boomer said to himself. With a grunt, he got up from his place on the ground and began heading to class. He scratched his wrist hiding underneath his black, long-sleeved shirt, making sure to carefully travel around the bracelet Bubbles had given him a few weeks back.

Boomer couldn't stop the spark of energy that came from him, zapping the ground and leaving a black mark in its place. Other students either jumped in shock or scurried to class. Brick was going to kill him for that one. It couldn't be helped, though.

This was a stupid idea. Fighting Bubbles on his own would be stupid. But he was always a bit stupid, practically the definition of the word.

It was decided. He was going to fight her.

* * *

"You're here."

"Don't think too much about it. I just wanna kick your butt."

Most would cower in fear at those words, especially from a Rowdyruff Boy, even the one that was viewed the "dumbest" and the "weakest." But Bubbles just gave him a small smile, content and unafraid. "Great!" she exclaimed, levitating in the air. "Let's go!"

Boomer hopped up and followed her, trying hard not to think about the fact that he was essentially hanging out with a Powerpuff Girl. Fight or not, this was still weird. If his brothers heard anything about it, he was sure they'd give him an earful… or twenty. So, telling them was out of the question.

Bubbles was fast in the air, and the only way Boomer stayed on track was by following the last traces of her baby blue streak. He wondered if she was the fastest Powerpuff or if all the girls had a speed to them that went unnoticed in their many fights. By the time they landed in front of her home and entered through the front entrance, Boomer was a bit out of breath. Clearly, she had him beat in the flight department.

"Professor's at some convention and the girls have club activities today, so they won't be here for a while," Bubbles explained as she fiddled with her keys with one too many charms that made them jingle far more than they should have.

Boomer shrugged. "Didn't ask."

Her smile lessened, just a bit. "You know, you can drop the whole 'tough guy' act. It's just the two of us here," she said, voice firm like a teacher that is kind but wants what's best for you all the same.

It was almost funny, the way she thought she knew him. He was sure that the only thing she knew was how to get on his very last nerve. "Not an act," he said.

"It's not?" She sounded like she didn't believe him.

"Nope."

"Yeah, okay, sure. And the sky isn't blue today."

Boomer's face twisted in confusion, and just to make sure, he looked up. "But the sky _is_ blue today. It didn't rain at all." Bubbles turned and just stared at him. Then, it clicked. "Oh. _Oh._ That was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

"Good catch." It was so strange how Bubbles somehow did not make that sound like a tease. Genuine kindness coated her words, and that plus the way she smiled at him was enough to make Boomer's stomach turn. She then faced the door, pushing it open. "Now c'mon!"

The two traveled inside the empty home. It smelt like dark coffee, old books, and lavender, which sounded a bit weird but was somehow comforting together. There were many pictures of the girls along with that one old man, the Professor. Some were goofy, while others were serious, but in each one, there was a sense of happiness in them. It was the perfect home for the perfect girls.

Boomer never felt more out of place in his life.

Bubbles floated to the door labeled 'Basement.' She flicked on the lights, then gestured to him using her hand, leading the way down the stairs. He didn't need her as a guide, though. He remembered the pathway. How could he forget the place that had, for moments that felt like years, took away his powers, all he had known? He had never felt more helpless before.

The place hadn't changed much from that day, either. It was still too bright, too stuffy, too cold, too everything. The air smelt a bit funny, like the one accident that happened last week in Boomer's lab class. Unlike lab class, though, he didn't feel like laughing. There were a lot of funny things in life, but for him, being powerless was not one of those things.

"Boomer, are you coming?"

Boomer didn't notice that he was standing completely still in the middle of tables filled with beakers and potions until Bubbles had called out to him from a bit farther into the basement. "Yeah," he said, pushing his thoughts away. He made sure to focus directly on the energy circling through his veins more than anything else, staring at the back of her head until he could imagine there was a hole there. "Right behind you."

They traveled deeper inside the basement and finally arrived at a secluded room to the far back. The only light in the room came from what lied beyond another door: a bright, white chamber with blank walls and sparkly floors. A machine with far too many buttons was in front of them. Bubbles moved her hands like she was on a mission, flipping switches and pulling levers. Finally, he noticed her turn a huge, black knob to the left past zero and could see the words 'Training Mode' lying on the screen.

Without a word, she placed her bookbag near the machine then floated inside the chamber. Boomer followed her moves closely, and when he entered the chamber, the door automatically closed on its own.

"Uh," Boomer said, making sure to keep his eyes on the door. "Is this place haunted?"

Bubbles giggle snapped his attention back to her. "Nah, it's just artificially intelligent. It can respond to basic actions and commands based on previous data collected."

"So… haunted."

Bubbles considered his words for a bit. "Kind of," she concluded, though she looked a tad bit confused still. But she didn't call him dumb, which was better than what his brothers would have done. "Anyway. Are you ready?"

No, not really. But Boomer was never truly ready for fights, even when he was supplied with endless time beforehand to prepare. "As I'll ever be," he said.

Bubbles nodded, then cleared her throat. "Training, begin!" she said in a clear voice, the sound bouncing off the white walls.

Like magic, the area around them turned deserted and sandy. The air was hot and a bit uncomfortable, and a trickle of sweat slowly yet surely made its way down Boomer's neck. Bugs buzzed around in groups; he took note that he could even understand what each bug was saying in here as if they were like the real deal. The wind blew ever so softly and there was even a little tumbleweed who was making its way down the bare path they stood at.

Boomer knew what brilliance looked like up close. Even though his fathers were a bit dumb in personality, the two still held a lot of logic. Brick was one of the smartest boys he knew. Even Butch had his moments. But right then and there in that haunted chamber, two overly basic words, "holy shit," were the first things to come out of his mouth.

"Cool, right?" Bubbles asked.

Boomer couldn't answer aloud. He could only nod his head in agreement because yeah, it was. Actually, it was fucking _sweet._ It was like the things he saw in those animes Brick watched before bed, unreal yet amazing all at once.

"We used to only have Mission Mode to train against these fake AI monsters," Bubbles explained. "The Training Mode is a new update. Blossom's pretty against it for some reason and Buttercup _never_ wants to fight against me since she's so cocky and everything, which is understandable since she _is_ the toughest fighter, so—" She stopped once she saw what had to be the most impatient look Boomer could place on his face. "Oh. Right. You're ready."

The mood shifted then, but only a little. Boomer watched as his counterpart rolled her shoulders back. She inhaled deep, held it for a bit, then exhaled. Finally, she settled in a standard fighter's lunge.

"On three, okay?" she called out to him. "One… Two—"

Letting his body take over, Boomer rushed over to Bubbles and punched her straight in the gut, feeling instant satisfaction at the way her body flew back into a mountain. It wasn't that hard of a punch for her; it was more of a warning than any word he could say. He knew she could take it physically. Emotionally? Hopefully not.

Bubbles wore a pout as she rose. Small rocks fell from her hair, and as the dust cleared, he could see that her clothes were wrinkled. "Hey, I said on three!" A spark of energy circled her, quick but noticeable.

Boomer smirked at that. The thought of making her mad always riled him up in the best way. "And I didn't," he said, shrugging his shoulders for extra effect.

Bubbles got the hint. Her eye twitched a bit as she got up, and before he could process, she flew over to him to land a crackling punch straight to his face.

It hurt. _Bad._ Not the worst hit he received, but it was one of the worst he received from her.

That was good. It meant she was trying for once.

He shot his arm out, catching onto one of the rough edges of a nearby mountain, and used the momentum to change his trajectory back to her. As he expected, she was ready for him. Every punch he threw was met with a block; every punch she threw was met with a dodge. Their thought process was probably the same: wait for a clear opening before going in for the attack.

Bubbles hopped up and flew into the sky. Probably trying to buy her some time to come up with a plan. Not on his watch. Boomer followed her light blue trail closely and was able to pass her enough to block her. Their hands clasped against one another, trying to get the upper hand, but they were equal as always.

Brick always told him and Butch to play it safe until the right moment came. Usually, Boomer would ignore that advice, because waiting was a bit hard. But in that moment, he decided to listen. His eyes focused on hers, trying to see when she'd crack.

But Bubbles refused. It was as if his stare made her stronger. "C'mon Boomer, stop holding back!" Bubbles yelled, and a flash of energy circled her. He could feel it collide with his, trying to come out as the one on top.

Boomer scoffed. It was so easy for her to say that, just to try and rile him up. "You're one to talk." He felt a burn in his eyes, then released a laser beam towards her forehead.

She dodged expertly, keeping her forehead from harm yet surrendering her dark blue hair ties to the full extent of his laser beam. Her eyes narrowed at him, and though they grew red, she held back because Bubbles Utonium was good at that. It was almost as if she were made to do that, just to piss him off.

"What does that even mean?" she asked, and he hated the way that she sounded confused. She should know that this made him angry, if not from the connected energies, then from his face.

Boomer gritted his teeth. The sky began to darken and boom with thunder. "You _always_ hold back on me. I don't know if you're scared or if you just underestimate me, but I don't care. It just makes you so fucking _annoying_!"

His aggravation got the best of him, and he pushed her away far enough to create a bit of distance between them. He could still feel traces of her on his skin. Nothing angered him more.

Bubbles said nothing for a while. She just floated there, her expression unreadable as she attempted to catch her breath. Her curly hair waved freely in the wind, her hair ties scattered and destroyed on the ground. Thunderbolts rained through the sky, some hitting her directly, but she did not wince or falter.

Raw power circled her, all her own, and his heart quickened at the sight.

It was then and there when, for the first time in his life, Boomer Jojo saw Bubbles Utonium as someone to be feared.

Bubbles looked like a combination of her older sisters: the careful observation of Blossom with the strong spirit of Buttercup. "Show me how annoying, then." When she spoke, her voice was careless and firm. It wasn't a request. It wasn't even a suggestion. It was a command, one that Boomer knew he'd listen to even though she had no control over his decisions.

Well. Maybe she had a little control over his decisions now.

Boomer let out a wild, uncontrolled battle cry that stung his lungs and sent goosebumps across his arms. They collided with one another in different locations in the sky, first high above, then close to the ground. He acted on pure impulse, disregarding any cuts and bruises that would surely sting once their fight was over. The Chemical X in his veins pumped through his entire body and came out in bursts of electric blue through every punch and every kick.

A wicked grin grew on his face (a small part of him wondered if he looked like Butch, or maybe even Brick when he started a fire), and it stayed on his face, even when she got lucky and got a few hits in. It occurred to him that for once, he didn't give a shit what his brothers would think about this if they ever found out. He didn't give a fuck what anybody would potentially think. All he knew was that this was exhilarating in a way he had never felt before and he did not want it to end.

One of her fists aimed for his stomach, and instinctively he dodged. Suddenly, her foot collided with his face, a cheap shot that somehow worked in her favor, and he flew high in the air. The world around him blurred, and try as he might, he could not move his pulsing muscles any longer. He could only float aimlessly, his body rotating horizontally.

Bubbles zoomed to meet him, and in the blur, he could see her face settled in a snarl. It was so unfamiliar to him, to see her look at him like that, even after she had literally murdered him back when they were younger. A word crossed his mind, maybe a word that described how she truly looked to him at that moment, but his brain refused to grasp it and instead focused on the pain in his bones and the fire in her eyes.

"Take _this_!" he heard Bubbles shout. Clasping both of her hands, she aimed then delivered a painful blow to his stomach.

When Boomer's back collided with the ground, all he could see was white. He took a sharp breath, trying to regain his vision, but he was greeted with a slow, developing darkness. And despite the Chemical X in his blood begging him to hold on for just a few more moments, he eventually let go.

* * *

"… _mer_ … _Boomer… Oh no, are you dead_ _?_ "

"Ugh…" Slowly, Boomer rose from… where exactly? He blinked once, twice. The world around him was white. One more blink brought in the sight of the chamber back in its original form.

"Boomer!" He turned to see Bubbles, who looked disgustingly worried. "Are you alright?" she asked.

No. Absolutely not. He felt like his back was cracked in half and breathing was not as easy as usual. But admitting that to her felt like something similar to death—something he could say as someone who had experienced it. "Nothing the Chemical X can't fix," he said instead, wobbly getting up and brushing himself off. He didn't need a mirror to know he looked like shit.

Bubbles let out a large exhale, bending over and placing her hands on her knees. Funny, it almost looked like she was the one who got beat up. Her hair was all over the place, black scorch marks on her outfit. "Okay, _phew_ , because I thought I'd have a ton of explaining to do."

Boomer paused, took a good look at her face. Then, he let his brain take control: "Thanks, Bubbles."

A huge grin spread on Bubbles' face. Ugh. She was probably going to say 'you're welcome,' or ask why he even thanked her. But instead, she said, "You said my name."

"Huh?" Boomer's face scrunched up.

"It's just…" She let out a tiny laugh. "You never said it to me before. My name. It was always 'dumb blonde' this, or 'stupid Puff' that. I didn't think you knew it."

Boomer's lips quivered. That was the dumbest thing he heard all day. How could he forget a name that was so important to him, a name that stuck with him almost every second of his life? He let out a loud laugh at the thought.

Somehow, Bubbles looked even more worried, almost as if she would cry. "What's funny? Oh my gosh—are you going delirious after losing? I am _so_ sorry. I'll go call the Professor to help!"

Boomer shook his head. "No. You're just…"

 _She's just what?_ His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to come up with some sort of answer. Bubbles Utonium was a lot of things. Annoying, yet kind. A bit ditzy, yet smart. Disgustingly sweet, yet to a tolerable degree. Cute, yet—

Wait. _Cute?_

He processed the word, swallowed hard. That was the wrong thought. Maybe she did cause a little damage to his brain. He'd have to persuade HIM to check it out; he knew the damn demon was stalking him right not in Hell with his multiple TVs, as per usual.

"You're.. alright, Bubbles." He settled for that answer, unsure where his mind would have gone if he had let it explore more in this state.

"Oh." She blinked, then smiled. "Uh, thanks. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"No problem," he replied. "You deserve it. Really."

Another moment of silence spread between them. For a moment, Boomer debated on whether he should just take his bag and fly out as if this whole thing didn't happen, but Bubbles spoke up before he even got the chance to move.

"I'm sorry I hold back. I try to see the good in everything, and I just…" Bubbles sighed and massaged her hands. "I make everything smaller than what it is. I can see how that can be annoying."

"It _is_ annoying," Boomer said stubbornly because to be fair, it was. He was somewhat pleased that even she could finally understand the annoyance he went through all this time.

"Then consider this a promise to you." She walked up to him and held one of her pinkies up, looking into his eyes. "I'll stop holding back if you never start. Deal?"

Boomer knew the importance of pinky promises. Every time his brothers made a deal, they sealed it with a shake of their pinky. It was never broken. Never. Her offering was a huge deal, even if she was a stupid Powerpuff with a stupid smile. She must have been serious about this.

And he thought about that possibility. This whole time, she had looked at him as small, as pitiful. But if he had more chances to see her as he saw her when she glared at his very soul, if he had more chances to see _that_ side of Bubbles Utonium rather than that sweet, sugary bullshit that she hid behind every single day of her life, that would be a blessing to him.

Boomer nodded, connected pinkies with her, and shook slightly. "Deal." There was a small spark between the two, one that started at the tip of their pinkies and traveled down to the ground below. It differed from the ones in their fight. This one was welcomed, comforting.

"Cool." Bubbles dropped her hand and gripped the bottom of her slightly torn and burned shirt. "Glad we got that settled."

He was glad, too. Would he admit that with as much enthusiasm as he was feeling deep down? Absolutely not. "Same. I should get going, though 'fore your folks show up."

"You're okay flying on your own?"

"Duh. Isn't the first time I've lost a fight with you."

She opened her mouth, debated her words, then shut it. Good. If she would've offered help, he would have ripped his hair out. Instead, they grabbed their bags, and she led him through the basement and up the stairs. The main entrance of the house was the same as what it was when they first entered. He looked at the clock. Five thirty-two, a little more than two hours since school had ended. It didn't even feel that long.

Bubbles opened the door for him. "We should do this again sometime," she said slowly. It reminded him of how he'd suggest something to Brick: carefully, with the answer 'no' already in mind.

Boomer thought about it for a bit, then nodded. "Yeah. We should," he agreed because he had to win at least once. Who was he to deny an opportunity of beating his counterpart at something? "Guess I'll, uh, see you later."

As he hopped up and began his unsteady float, Bubbles gave him a tiny wave. "Yeah. See you later."

Boomer waved back and stayed there for a bit, even after she closed the door. It was strange. Minus the bruises and scratches that would surely heal by tomorrow evening, there'd be no indication that he ever went inside the Utonium household in the first place. Nobody would ever know about their fight.

Somehow, that felt more satisfactory than any public fight they ever had.

The flight home felt long and painful. When Boomer landed, his muscles felt like they were on fire. _Ugh,_ the stupid lair just _had_ to be high up instead of closer to the ground like any other regular house in Townsville. Beautifully made, but terrible to try and enter easily. He'd have to give the architects a word or two about their shitty idea of leaving out an elevator as an entrance whenever he found out who they were.

Butch was in the kitchen when Boomer arrived. "Shit," Butch said, stuffing his water bottle into the already cramped fridge. "You look fucking awful, bro. What'd ya do, get in a catfight with a werewolf?"

Boomer rolled his eyes. Not even five minutes back inside and Butch was already calling him out. He could never catch a break. He knew his clothes were ruined—a shame, truly, since he got them as a gift from Mojo and they _actually_ looked decent—but he didn't want to be reminded that he looked a mess.

Suddenly, Boomer sniffed and… wait, what the fuck was that smell? That couldn't be himself, right? It was like a mixture of tartar sauce and a boy's locker room. He scrunched his nose. "And you _smell_ awful. Where are you coming from, the dump?" Boomer asked, avoiding Butch's question.

There was a pause, and Butch's eyes narrowed a bit. Boomer wondered if his cover was blown. Did he smell like Bubbles? Did he accidentally grab her bag? Was he shaking too much?

Luckily, he seemed to be in the clear. "Maybe," Butch said with a smirk that could only mean trouble.

To make matters worse, Butch flew over and threw his arm over his younger brother's shoulder. His black and white tee was covered in sweat and grime and _yuck_ , this was so disgusting. Boomer was a Rowdyruff Boy, sure, but he was a Rowdyruff Boy with fucking smell standards. He could only take so much of his brother's disgusting behavior before going off the rails.

"Awm you looked a lil' sick. I thought you liked smelling me, Boom," Butch teased.

Boomer gagged. "Gross, your pits smell like Godzilla!" he exclaimed, plugging his nose. "Let me go!"

Butch gave him a fake pout. "Hey, you be nice to Godzilla! He gave us grilled cheese sandwiches that one time during Mojo's cookout and I will not stand for the slander!"

That was true. They were the greatest grilled cheese sandwiches Boomer had ever had the pleasure of having. But that was beside the point. "Still! Get off, asshole." Boomer hit the back of Butch's head, making sure to add a little spark of energy to make his brother jolt.

Butch did not look like it hurt him, but Boomer knew his brother. Any time his grin grew, he was hiding pain. Good. He deserved it. "Only because you asked nicely," Butch said, ruffling Boomer's hair into an even worse mess.

 _Freedom, finally_. Even though the smell was still in the air, the tiny decrease of it was a blessing. "Whatever." Boomer sighed. "I'm going to go take a shower. I feel like I smell like a corpse or something." Butch's smile grew, just a bit, and Boomer felt his heart drop. " Oh no. No. Butch. Don't you dare."

Too late. "Not if I beat you to it!" Butch yelled before flying off. Boomer knew that even if he had the energy to race him, he'd still lose. Butch was the fastest of the three Rowdyruffs, and the maniac wore that fact with pride.

"No!" Boomer yelled as he heard the door to the bathroom slammed. He always wondered why Mojo never remodeled the place, especially after the number of times he and his brothers would argue over who gets to shower first. It must be nice to have more than one bathroom. "You didn't even wanna shower until I came home!" Boomer crossed his arms and glared at the door.

"What was that?" Butch called over the sound of running water. The _asshole._ The _audacity._ "Can't hear you over the water that's coming from my nice, hot shower!"

Boomer wondered how much he'd regret if he set up an elaborate prank against Butch that included switching his shampoo with pink hair dye. By the time an hour passed and the sound of running water still spread through the house, he decided that it was at a solid zero percent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, tis true sort-of-friendship at first artificial intelligence simulation fight. How beautiful. Absolute goals.
> 
> (Also, how? In the world? Do you write action scenes? I just can not, so I am so sorry if that part is rough. It went through, like, seven rewrites.)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has interacted with this fic in any way! Y'all are literally the motivation for this. Give yourselves a pat on the back. You deserve it, truly.
> 
> Next chapter will be in my lovely birthday month and will be updated on or around April 3rd. Be on the lookout for that, and until next time!
> 
> Next Chapter: April  
> April showers...


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